This isn't your typical paranormal/fantasy demon based romance...
In this world there is a thin line between a God and a demon. In fact, Lucifer himself recruited seven former Greek Gods as his own Dominion. Each leading a Dominion over each of t...
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I relished every warm droplet of water as they coalesced together and cascaded in rivulets sluicing all over my body from the gigantic showerhead above me. Every muscle in my body ached after the combat lesson I had just experienced. We had stayed out in that field practicing far longer than we should have. The sun dropped below the horizon and Namjoon arrived home just in time to catch the tail end of the lesson. He paused to give me a few brief praise laden comments that I couldn't help but admit made my cheeks fill with warmth.
The aches I acquired from the lesson didn't make me unhappy though, nor did the amount of time we lingered going over each new move I would use in future battles, should they occur during my stay here. No, the muscle pains I attained were the good kind of ache; the kind of ache that spoke of thoroughly pushing my body to the brink of its limit from a solid effort to do my best. The true problem was that it wasn't the type of workout that I was starting to crave, especially after having a front row seat to watching two of my roommates in action from the illusory projections Jungkook prepared for me.
I found myself sighing as I mentally revisited the taunt arm muscles that were put on display before my very eyes from Jungkook's illusions. My eyelids cast downward of their own accord and the visuals played unwarranted behind them once more. Taehyung's mixture of tawny skin and prismatic scales; Hoseok's honey toned skin flexing and relaxing between each movement during combat. I subconsciously pinched the plush flesh of my lower lip between my blunt teeth in some kind of physical effort to get rid of the visuals that kept playing over and over in my head. Yet, still I found both my hands had a mind of their own as my fingertips began gliding down my body, tracing the patterns the streams of water were leaving behind.
It had been so long since I had been intimate with anyone. I couldn't help but wonder, since they could withstand my kisses, did that mean that I might be able to share my body with them as well without any repercussions? I knew from my book that I should be more than capable with training, but that didn't keep the subtle doubt from my mind. It made me more cautious about the idea, but it didn't vanquish the need growing in my body. I began to imagine what each of them might look like nude. The varying shades of skin tones available to my perusal. I started by mentally wondering about what could be hidden beneath their shirts. I speculated whether or not they might have washboard abs that I could investigate with the pads of my fingers, dragging the padded flesh over each ripple and mapping the topographic terrain to memory. I'd imagine the muscles would feel smooth and unyielding beneath my fingertips; the bones underneath their skin would break up that smoothness to their sharpness by either being prominent or depressed, indented edges. Would any of them have that sexy v divot of the inner portion of their sharply defined hipbones that I know would make me salivate in anticipation to uncover where it had disappeared from view underneath their waistbands? I could only imagine leaving a trail of explorative kisses across that delectable strip of toned flesh referred to as an Adonis belt.
